Meaningless

[Lessien Melwasul]

~Cameras find Lessien in her locker room, smoking against the

hard

steel door. Her right boot heel pressed against it in a classic, bad girl, outlaw pose. She notices the camera, of course. She fucking ordered it. She had something to say.~

I'm just a girl.

~Alice whispered around a plume of escaping smoke, yellowed teeth dull behind her lips.~

I'm the only one that really knows what is going on here.

~Betty snorts with general disdain towards the latest refuse of humanity the latest wrestling company had thrown together in the misguided rush of "Big equals good". You think they would have learned something by now.~

Let's share.

Oh I believe that we must, sweet Alice.

I know that we will.

~The right boot heel came off the door, and ground the Lucky Strike ashes into pure

virgin

dust as she took a slow step forward, towards the camera. It kept her

tight

in frame.~

Two things.

~Alice holds the fingers in front of her face before letting them slide

down

her body.~

Let's start with you Veranica Styles. Funny, isn't it? How often the idiot blames the riddle for the world she doesn't understand.

~A short, curt laugh.~

Well, here's a new flash for you Styles. The words that come out of my mouth aren't meant to confuse or paint pretty pictures in your "mind". They are simply targeted to someone who may have just finished the 6th grade. Someone entirely different from you dear child.

~Betty looks down on the camera from above. The same way she looked down on Veranica. The simple symbolism made Alice smile.~

Luck is upon you always.

Oh V. child, you're simple smothered in it. How lucky you are to live in a world where intelligence, talent and the sweetest fruit of all, originality don't mean shit. You can get by on the roll of the dice.

The fall of a body.

A single random event beyond reason. Oh trust me Lover. That is the ONLY thing that could put you above me in any fucking scale you apply to this fucked up world that holds the like of both you

~She sneered with a sour taste.~

and me.

~They kept their slow pace for the camera, stepping over the wooden bench that divided the room in two. She stepped over to the other side.~

Yes, in this fucked up world. You may very well beat the likes of me, and for what? The Debutante Title!?

~Betty could choke on that name just as easily as all the others before it. They obviously didn't take her suggestions seriously on what to do with the insipid drone that kept churning out these idiotic name. "The Women's Championship!" Is that so fucking hard?~

An empty piece of metal and leather with zero history or prestige. Just like most of the women in line to receive this "gift". It means nothing, and until my hands touch it?

~Alice raises her fingers again.~

It will always be, nothing.

~Betty looks down at the camera again.~

That's no riddle, Lover. That's the cold,

hard

fucking

facts.

~Betty waves dismissively to each name she had never heard of before, stopping at only one.~

If there's any justice left in this world. It will be me and you, Drew. The only two that bring more than childish inspiration to this fucked up deal. Oh yes, I've heard of you and admit. And it's the only thing that can happen that can make this PPV anything more than meaningless to me.

~She walks by camera, and is gone.~